


Likely Cause

by humanveil



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arranged Marriage, Exes, M/M, but hux has a mini breakdown bc he's in love, but not between kylux, i actually have no idea how to tag this one, there's punching involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: “No ring,” is all Kylo says, rubbing the blood between finger and thumb. His voice is flat; no anger, nothing.“I left her there.”A pause. And then, “For me?”





	

_you are the likely cause  
of what will be my demise_

_oh, it's not surprising  
just [inconvenient](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TY8yrJ0sDs)_

The illusion doesn’t break until the day of.

When he wakes, it’s still with the belief that he will go through with it, that he will finish what he was forced to start. They’d been planning for six months, after all; to leave now would just be a waste of time.

It’s not until he’s dressing in the suit they’d bought him that the doubts start to emerge. First it’s just questions of _what if_ and _do you really want_ and _can you?_  He blames it on typical wedding day emotions, the kind of cold feet everyone says they get.

He knows that’s not the case when his hands move to fasten his tie, and he feels the ghost of someone else, of their fingers brushing against his throat while they do it for him.

He swallows down the emotion it prompts; tries to forget about it. It almost works.

He doesn’t decide to leave until mere minutes before he’s set to walk down the aisle. But once the decision it made, he doesn’t turn back. He walks as quickly as he can; keeping his head down lest someone spot him and ask what he’s doing, where he’s going.

Only once he’s away from the hotel and out in the open street, sure that no one from the reception will find him, does he let himself breathe.

And then, he starts to panic.

*

Two hours later finds him sat at a bar on the other side of town, glass of whiskey held in one hand and cell phone in front of him. He’d turned it off, the incessant buzzing annoying, and let all the messages and calls go unanswered. There was no going back now.

He’d lost count of how many glasses he’d already downed, but the bartender keeps supplying them, so it couldn’t be too many. Not that he cares.

He stays well after the sun has set, drinking to quiet the worries he now feels; to stop the flashes of a smile, a laugh, that plague his mind. Nothing works. Memories, both good and bad, continue to play behind his eyelids when they shut, and he sighs into the empty glass.

“Another?” he asks, tapping the glass, but the bartender shakes her head, lips tilted in a small, pity filled smile.

“You’re cut off.”

Hux sighs again. He wants to argue – is in the mood for a fight – but he knows it’s not worth it. Instead, he pockets his phone and pulls his wallet from its place, leaving enough cash on the counter to pay for his drinks and leave the waiter with a considerable tip before finally leaving.

He only stumbles a little when he walks down the street, but he’s still glad when it doesn’t take long to find a cab. “Where to?” the driver asks, looking back at him from the rear-view mirror.

Hux considers it, palm rubbing against his forehead as he thinks. Eventually, he rattles off an address to a place he hasn’t been in over a year, and hopes for the best.

*

The apartment building hasn’t changed. The outer walls are still worn, the inside still in dire need of a makeover.

Somehow, Hux finds it comforting.

He takes the stairs two at a time, long legs coming in handy. His body is working off of muscle memory, eyes barely registering where he’s going. Part of him worries that the apartment will be empty, or that someone else will be there. The other part hopes that’s the case.

When he gets to the desired door, he takes a moment to gather himself. He brushes down the suit, squares his shoulders, and tries to look more composed than he actually is.

There’s no answer when he first knocks, so he tries again. Knuckles banging against the wood, loud enough that the neighbours can probably hear. He doesn’t care. The light that flows from beneath the door tells him someone is home, and he won’t stop until he sees who it is.

He’s come too far to turn back now.

It’s another minute before the door opens, and Hux doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not when Kylo’s face comes into vision. Lines of irritation morph into surprise as Kylo realises who it is, gaze trailing over his body as if he can’t believe he’s really there.

“Hux?” he murmurs, as if to make sure, and the voice makes a million things rush through Hux’s head at once.

He hadn’t thought this far, hadn’t planned on what to do if Kylo had been the one to answer the door. He isn’t sure if he should say something or not, if he should enter the apartment or run in the direction he came. Hux takes a breath, considering his options.

And then, he punches him.

It’s a surprise to the both of them. His fist moves too fast for Kylo to register it before it hits him, knuckles hitting his face unexpectedly hard. He stumbles back, one hand reaching out to steady himself. He doesn’t react immediately, just stares wide eyed at Hux, spare hand reaching to his face, fingers swiping across the blood that’s begun to drip from where his lip is split.

After a long pause, he pulls his hand back, eyes focusing on the smear of crimson.

“No ring,” is all Kylo says, rubbing the blood between finger and thumb. His voice is flat; no anger, nothing.

He can hear Hux breathing from where he stands in the open doorway; doesn’t have to look at him to know his chest is rising and falling erratically. “I left her there,” Hux tells him, the words coming out murmured; strained.

It’s enough to make Kylo’s gaze snap to him instantly. He makes a move towards the other man, but Hux steps back instinctively, and Kylo stops. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood, and waits another moment before speaking again.

“For me?”

Hux considers the words; knows what the answer is but doesn’t want to say it. He opens his mouth, shuts it, shakes his head. His eyes meet Kylo’s, and the emotion there is enough to send him running. He turns on his heel, ignores the yelled _wait_ , _Hux, wait,_ and doesn’t stop running until he’s sure that Kylo is no longer following.

He’s fucking screwed.

**

_“He can’t do that,” Kylo says, for what must be the thousandth time. Hux closes his eyes and takes another drag of his cigarette, trying to ignore how Kylo’s voice is close to breaking._

_“Yes he can,” he says eventually, keeping his back to the other man as he blows smoke out into the open air, watching as it floats upwards before disappearing. “My father does as he pleases.”_

_“But he can’t—”_

_“Kylo,” Hux says, his tone firm, and Kylo stops talking. Hux takes another drag, and another after that; as if hoping that keeping his mouth occupied will stop him from having to continue the conversation._

_Kylo doesn’t move from his spot behind him, and Hux can feel the way he’s being stared at; knows that if he looks up he’ll find big, round eyes shining with tears._

_He keeps his head turned away._

_“I’m sorry,” he says eventually, when the cigarette is finished and he’s forced to leave the bud in the ashtray. He thinks it could be the first time he’s said the words in their entire relationship; knows it’s the first time he’s meant them in a long, long time._

_“Say no,” Kylo answers, voice barely audible._

_Hux gives a minute shake of his head. “You knew this was a possibility.”_

_“He can’t force you to get married. Say no,” Kylo repeats, desperate. “Hux, please. Don’t—don’t—” Don’t leave me._

_Only now does Hux turn to him, and the face he sees is even worse than he’d expected. Kylo looks broken, he looks how Hux feels. His jaw is clenched, tears threatening to fall, and the sight makes Hux’s throat suspiciously tight._

_He needs to leave, has a dinner to go to, has to go meet his future wife. He can’t be here, he can’t do this. Quietly, he stands, and Kylo copies his movement. Their bodies face each other, and Hux knows that Kylo’s trying not to reach out and touch him._

_With a soft sigh, Hux moves his hands to the lapel of Kylo’s shirt, his fingers curling around the fabric, thumbs rubbing his skin through the cloth. He leans in, pressing his mouth to Kylo’s softly. Kylo kisses him like it’s their last time, and the fact that it might be is enough to make Hux stay a moment more._

_Their foreheads press together, breath mingling between them. Hux can see the stray tears that Kylo can’t keep at bay, and he knows he has to leave now; before he decides to say. He presses another quick, chaste kiss to the corner of Kylo’s mouth, and then takes a step back, away from him._

_“Goodbye, Kylo.”_

**

It’s nearing three am when he gets there, but Phasma doesn’t look surprised when she opens the door. She lets him through, ushering him into her small kitchen where he collapses at the counter.

“I couldn’t go home,” he says as way of explanation. “Brendol will kill me.”

“So I heard,” she replies, filling a glass with water and handing it to him with a pointed look. “What happened to your hand?”

He looks over as he takes a drink, noticing the redness of his knuckles. “Kylo.”

He doesn’t elaborate, but Phasma seems to understand anyway. “Is that why you left, too?”

He sighs, long and loud, and rests his head in his hands; squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at the lids tiredly. “I shouldn’t have done it,” he murmurs. “I shouldn’t be here. I should just... suck it up and go back.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“No.”

Phasma takes the seat next to him, grabbing his wrist to pull his hands away from his face. She pushes the half empty glass back towards him, and he takes it obediently.

“What _do_ you want?” she asks, voice gentle. She’s being nicer than her usual self, and that’s how Hux knows she’s being serious with him.

“I want...” he trails off, finishes the water. “I want to live my own life.”

“With Kylo?” Phasma asks, watching as Hux swallows and then nods. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

Phasma has known it for a while, but she wants Hux to admit it aloud; to himself. She had watched the rise and fall of the relationship intently, had decided back then that Hux would come to regret leaving. For the past few months, she’d watched him struggle with himself, knowing this day was inevitable.

“I think… It’s easy with him,” Hux starts. “Since I was a kid, someone has been telling me what to say and where to go. How to act or not act. And I...”

“You what?”

“I barely knew who I was before Kylo started asking,” Hux admits, and when he looks at Phasma, he looks desperate. Like he’s begging her to answer all the questions he has.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Phasma says, lips pulled in a familiar smirk. “I think you already know, anyway.”

*

He ends up sleeping on Phasma’s couch, borrowing a set of her casual clothes so he doesn’t have to sleep in a suit. At first he tosses and turns, contemplating turning on his phone to see the shitstorm it undoubtedly holds, but eventually he passes out.

When he wakes, it’s to the smell of coffee and a freshly cooked breakfast, and Hux has never appreciated Phasma more than he does as he consumes them both. She lets him use her shower, and then pushes him out her apartment door with a kiss to the cheek and threat to kick his ass if he doesn’t do the right thing. Whatever that is.

By the time he reaches Kylo’s apartment, it’s bordering on one in the afternoon. He takes the steps slowly, this time; glad to at least be sober.

When Kylo opens the door, he looks relieved. Hux’s eyes flick to the bruise that colours his jaw immediately, feeling slightly remorseful, but he decides against commenting on it.

“Can I come in?”

Kylo nods, opening the door wider for Hux to move past him. He doesn’t walk much further into the apartment, just stands there somewhat awkwardly, unsure of how to start.

Luckily he’s saved the trouble.

“You left her there,” Kylo says, as if he’s trying to make sure yesterday wasn’t some kind of elaborate dream. It’s not a question, but Hux answers anyway.

“Yes.”

“For me?”

It’s the same question as yesterday, the same words that made Hux run; that still make him want to run. He doesn’t, though. Not this time.

“Yes.”

Kylo’s face breaks out into a grin, beautiful even with the bruise. He makes a move towards Hux, and Hux meets him halfway; arms wrapping around him when their bodies fall together.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispers, pressing his face into the crook of Kylo’s neck.

Kylo just shakes his head, lips pressing to Hux’s hairline softly, and Hux knows he’s already been forgiven.

It’s that easy.

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came to me at 3am and i wrote it even though i have 70 something WIPs. hopefully you liked it.  
> comments and kudos are always welcome. thank you for reading!!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/irnstrk) / [tumblr](http://humanveil.tumblr.com/)


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